


Up for a Challenge?

by SJoan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJoan/pseuds/SJoan
Summary: Dealing with lawsuits, job requirements, and Ministry events make Pansy Parkinson a dull girl. Could a random meeting one night at the bar change things in her life for the better?





	Up for a Challenge?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SingMeARareOSComp](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SingMeARareOSComp) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> That’s What I Like, by Bruno Mars
> 
> "I got a condo in Manhattan, Baby girl, what's hatnin'?"
> 
>  
> 
> **A/N:**
> 
>  
> 
> This piece is part of the Sing Me A Rare OS Competition Autumn 2017. I had a choice of song and one character which are That’s What I Like - Bruno Mars and Pansy Parkinson. The Admins of the group then randomly chose the other character or characters. All characters, spells, magical equipment and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling.
> 
> I'd like to thank KH for Alphaing and Betaing. You are amazing!

Resisting the urge to huff, roll her eyes, or make it blatantly obvious she was bored out of her mind, Pansy flicked her wand and cast a tempus. Her tablemate didn't seem to notice. 

She'd been roped into attending yet another boring Ministry ball with someone who was desperately trying to hide his affections for the same gender. Her life would be a lot easier if Theodore Nott could decide if he was going to continue fooling around with those he wanted to be with or settling down with someone who'd been chosen for him before his father’s death. The arrangements had all been made for him to wed Daphne Greengrass, a Pureblood Slytherin who hit all the bulleted requirements, but he continually flip-flopped between her and his unlikely partnership of Neville Longbottom. 

One day he chose to fulfil his Nott duties, the next he'd say “If I don't marry for love what's the point. A surrogate could carry my heir.” 

At least he was past the point of asking her if she'd be willing to take Daphne’s spot instead. Oh no, if Pansy Parkinson was going to marry, it would be for love and nothing else. She'd already lost her parents favour. Already lost her social standing. Already been raked through the coals in the Prophet. Wedding a proper Pureblooded, preferably Slytherin, man who fulfilled all the Parkinson requirements wouldn't make her parents renegotiate her disownment. Wouldn't make them stop this ridiculous lawsuit. Bugger them anyway.

Spying Theo up near the bar, she quickly excused herself from the utterly boring conversation she'd been having and grabbed his elbow before he had the chance to disappear on her again. Grinning foolishly he handed her one of the shots that had been placed on the counter in front of him. 

“Hello, Theo,” Pansy smirked. “My duties have been fulfilled, so I'll be off.” 

“The night is still young Pans, what do you mean you'll be off?”

Pansy arched an eyebrow. “I mean I'm leaving. And yes, the night is still young and I fully intend to make the most of it. Away from here.” 

Theo pouted. Yup. He was definitely more than a few drinks in. “But we haven't even had our signature dance.” He roped an arm around her waist, trying to prevent her from getting away. She spun out of his grip, downed the shot he’d given her, placed it neatly on the counter, and walked away wriggling her fingers at him over her shoulder - all before he could move to stop her. 

“Have a fun evening, Theo! Tell Longbottom I said hello. And to cast a breath refresher charm once the two of you leave whatever back room you'll find later.” 

Theo sputtered. “Pansy!”

Walking quickly to avoid any other unwanted conversations Pansy made her way to the Floo Entrance. Grabbing a handful of the bright green powder, she flung it into the fireplace and stated clearly, “Nott Manor.”

Thanking her childhood Floo training, all purebloods were required to continually Floo back and forth until they mastered an elegant Floo departure, Pansy stepped lightly out of the Nott fireplace. At least Flooing first to Theo’s meant no one would know her real destination. 

After the fallout from her family and the resulting drama that ensued with the paper, Pansy had done everything in her power to reduce the number of unwanted visitors. She’d managed to keep her apprenticeship with Madame Malkin a secret for six months before one of her ex-coworkers spilt the beans. She’d almost lost her job over it. 

Apparating quickly to her own flat, Pansy removed the pins and charms from her hair, allowing it to frame her cheeks. Stripping out of her floor-length gown, on went a knee length, strappy blue cutout dress and a pair of 5-inch black stilettos. The dress, of course, was her own design, part of Madam Malkin’s apprenticeship program. She’d been required to design something for the younger generations of witches and wizards, and what better to design than a line of clubbing wear? It had gone over especially well with the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team, they’d even gone as far as modelling a few of the outfits before their official release. With a flick of her wand, the final touches were complete. She was ready to deal with more Ministerial bullshit. 

Damn Weasley had better show up. 

**

Apparating around the corner, Pansy could already hear the music pounding, feel the music vibrating through her chest. 

With a quick glance to ensure no one was around, she gave herself a few moments to feel the disappointment and almost overwhelming despair before she squared her shoulders and pushed off the wall.

She was better than this. They wouldn't get to break her. No matter how many hoops or hurdles she had to jump, no Wizengamot member or Parkinson would take away what was rightfully hers. Bullshit ownership laws and all. 

Refusing to allow the situation to put a damper on her evening any more than it already had, she strode up to the club doors. 

“Artie! Let me in.” 

“Well if it isn't little Miss Parkinson, what you think just wearing a dress like that is going to get you into this club?” 

Pansy scowled. “Listen here, you --”

A dainty, lilting voice interrupted her. “She's with me, Artie.” Someone grabbed Pansy’s hand as Artie raised one eyebrow. He seemed to search the newcomer’s face for a moment before moving to the side. 

“Of course Miss.”

Pansy had to bite her tongue to keep herself from sticking it out at the bugger. She allowed her companion to pull her towards the club doors. Long blonde hair. Lilting voice. She racked her brain trying to remember who this was. L something. Leanna? No. That wasn't it.

“You're welcome Pansy Parkinson.” The girl smiled.

“Luna! That's it! You're Luna Lovegood.”

Luna nodded. “I'll come back. You need to see before anything can happen.” She twirled, her rainbow dress floating out around her as if there was a charm making it flutter in the nonexistent breeze, pushing open the club’s door. 

The volume of the music made it impossible for her to ask what in Merlin’s name Luna had been talking about. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Pansy followed Luna into the club quickly losing the other girl in the crowd. 

A lull in between songs allowed her a chance to order her drink and take it over to where her friends were sitting, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode. 

“Your meeting go that well?” Blaise asked as soon as she got near. Pansy huffed and rolled her eyes. 

“That damn Weasley wouldn’t know his way around a lawsuit if it bit him in the arse.” The others chuckled. “I wonder who he banged to get Head Ministry Attorney.”

“Pansy!” Daphne gasped. “Percy isn’t all bad!” 

She snorted. “He still hasn’t removed the stick that’s been shoved up his arse since he made Head Boy.” 

Daphne shook her head. “How did the meeting go anyways? Are you able to make an argument against their lawsuit?” 

Pansy shrugged. “We’ll see. Weasley doesn’t know if my argument is going to be strong enough. ‘You did come up with those ideas while living under their roof, the Ownership Laws are very particular you know.’”

“Those laws are bullshit and everyone knows it. Claiming ownership solely because something was created in your house? What about intellectual ownership?” Millicent scowled. “Your parents are such assholes.”

“‘You brought it on yourself you know, refusing the suit Monsieur Dubois offered. You could have been the perfect trophy wife!’” Pansy mocked, swinging back the last of her drink. “Oh yes mother, because marrying a half deaf, as old as my father, French wizard is all I want to do with my life. Our babies would be oh so gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous, wrinkly, French and pureblooded! What more could a witch want?” The girls giggled, Blaise’s impression of Mrs Parkinson spot on. He flouted and preened in his seat, waving down the waitress for another round. 

Millicent pointed with her drink over Pansy’s shoulder. “Speaking of what a witch would want, isn’t that the Weasley dragon tamer?” She cocked her head to one side. “What a fine specimen he is.”

Daphne groaned while Blaise and Pansy laughed. “Oh, not you too! I hear enough about fine specimens from Pansy, Millie!”

Millicent winked at her. “We just can’t help it Daph!” 

“You really should be used to it by now. How often was Pansy going on about someone at Hogwarts?” Blaise chuckled. “Merlin knows I heard enough of it and I wasn’t even her roommate.” 

“Stuff it, Blaise. Your ‘jam’ is starting.” The group left their seats and went on the magically enhanced dance floor. Multicoloured lights pulsated along with the beat. Blaise was in his element. Spinning, jumping, grooving along to his current favourite song. 

Hey, hey, hey  
I got a condo in Manhattan  
Baby girl, what's hatnin'?  
You and your ass invited  
So gon' and get to clappin'  
Go pop it for a player, pop-pop it for me  
Turn around and drop it for a player, drop-drop it for me

Pansy allowed herself to let go. She could smell the liquor lingering in the air, felt the beat of the music vibrating through her chest. 

Jump in the Cadillac  
(Girl, let's put some miles on it)  
Anything you want  
(Just to put a smile on you)  
You deserve it, baby, you deserve it all  
And I'm gonna give it to you

“Pretty girl like you deserves a dance partner, don’t you think?” 

Pansy spun, facing the newcomer. Bright blue eyes met hers. She looked him up and down, noting the red hair. “You sure a Weasley can keep up with me?” 

He smirked. “I’m always up for a challenge darlin’.”

 

**

 

Casting a defogging charm Pansy stared herself down in the mirror. Tonight had been… unexpected. For how awful her night had started, meeting the dragon tamer turned it right around. She'd left the bar in much higher spirits than she’d arrived. 

Pansy wrapped her bathrobe around herself and went out to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. They’d had quite a bit to drink and she hated the aftertaste of hangover cure, so she’d decided to stay awake to sober up a little. There were letters to respond to, dress sketches to look over, and an argument to polish up. Not that she’d keep any drunken additions to the last.

A tapping noise startled her. An owl? At this time? Pansy flicked her wand at the window, letting the small screech owl inside. He perched on the edge of her coffee table and stuck his leg out, waiting for her to remove the letter attached. A small smudge of lipstick on one of his feathers gave away who had sent him. 

“Hello, Otis.” She stroked his back, removed the letter and handed over an owl treat from the dish she had stored on the mantle. Ripping open the envelope Pansy quickly scanned the letter, chuckling at what Daphne and Millicent had co-written. They hadn't taken sober up potions either; there was wine spilt on one corner and a few of the words were squished together causing the ink to blur. She tapped her wand on one corner of the parchment, triggering the charm the trio placed on all of their letters. It would send a notification to the others, letting them know they were able to come over immediately. 

“Took you long enough!” Millicent’s head popped through the Floo. “We’re coming through!” She disappeared for a moment before her entire body appeared in the fire. Daphne followed a second later.

“Your dragon tamer took off already?” Millicent asked, plopping down on the couch. “I was looking forward to seeing him in a different light.” 

Daphne snorted. “If he was still here, Mill, we wouldn’t be.” She summoned butterbeers from Pansy’s kitchen, passing one to each of the others. “Besides, he didn’t come home with you did he?”

Pansy shook her head. “Nope.” Drinking some of her butterbeer, she tried to will the flush creeping up her cheeks away. Millicent cocked her head, leaning forward to study Pansy.

“What is that?” She pointed to a small mark hiding beneath Pansy’s robe collar. “I thought you’d been in the bathroom for far too long!”

Daphne pulled the robe down, giggling at the hickies that appeared dotting from ear to shoulder. “Tsk tsk Pans, the bar bathroom? Really?” 

Muttering curses under her breath, Pansy slapped their hands away and sat down on the couch between the pair. “Enough! Quit poking at me and I’ll give you details!”

Millicent winked at Daphne. “But not too many!”

“Oh please tell me you took his shirt off!” Daphne fanned herself. “If it were me that would be off in thirty seconds.”

Pansy shoved her. “It took ten thank you very much.”

**

Three weeks later, Pansy again found herself dancing to the beat, losing herself in the music. This time she hadn’t gone to the club in a mood. This time it was in celebration. She’d won. Her parents had lost. No one was going to be able to take her designs away, and she’d be able to sell them at Madam Malkin’s shop. 

Two arms came down on either side of her and with a sultry smile, Pansy turned and slid right up against her companion. The pair gyrated to the beat, ignoring the crowd of people surrounding them. Charlie spun her, pulling her close against his chest. “Are you sure a Parkinson like you can keep up with me?” He breathed into her ear. 

She laughed, pulling his mouth to her’s. “I’m always up for a challenge.”


End file.
